


Too Little, Too Late

by Mister_Fox



Series: Glimpses of Futures Gone [3]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Gen, Love Confessions, War, sort of one-sided relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:48:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24419911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mister_Fox/pseuds/Mister_Fox
Summary: Ichigo has a conversation that should have been had years and years ago.UraIchi Week 2020 - Day 4, Post-Canon
Relationships: Kurosaki Ichigo/Urahara Kisuke
Series: Glimpses of Futures Gone [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1763494
Comments: 3
Kudos: 61
Collections: UraIchi Week 2020





	Too Little, Too Late

“Hi, Kisuke,” Ichigo says, walking into the room. He pulls up a chair from the side of the room, dragging it close to the bed.

Nothing answers him save the beeping of machines, regular, _familiar_ beeps and whirr.

“It’s been a while. I had to go away, make sure the Quincies didn’t find our base. Not that we can’t move this entire place, now, but, you know. Finding a new safe location is a pain. Yhwach’s figured out how to keep a closer eye on when we jump between Hueco Mundo, Soul Society, and the Living World, so we’d be limited to staying in one dimension.” He sighs. “Until Aizen or Kurotsuchi figure out a way to circumvent his powers, anyway.”

There’s no answer.

Not that Ichigo expects one. He’s gotten over _that_ a long time ago.

“Stuff’s happened since I talked to you last, but nothing’s really… changed, I guess?” It hasn’t, not really. “No one’s died, anyway, not on our side, which is good. Not that many of us left.”

There really aren’t.

“I wanted to tell you, though. We’ve finally taken down the ones who… well. The ones who put you here. Shit, even with all the practice I have at dealing with Quincies now… the fact that you got attacked by that terror guy, poison guy, _and_ explosion guy, and didn’t die outright before any of us even _knew_ they were a threat? I have no fucking clue how you did that.”

WIthout Tsukishima’s help, Ichigo’s not sure he would have come out of that ambush alive - and _he_ was the one ambushing the Quincies, for once.

This war has made for some strange bedfellows.

“Byakuya and Renji are _still_ playing gay chicken, by the way. At the rate they’re _not_ going anywhere, I think someone’s going to snap, tie them together, and leave them in a closet soon.” He chuckles, shaking his head. He has money in the betting pool, and that money is on Aizen. The guy despises morons.

The machines beep and whir and underneath it all is the quiet, steady sound of machine-driven inhales and exhales, the sound distorted by the mask over Kisuke’s face.

Ichigo sighs. “You know, I always thought I’d have time. Even when it was one thing after another - getting my powers the first time, then rescuing Rukia, then Aizen and Muramasa and the Reigai and the Fullbringers, this never-ending list of messes… I thought I’d have time?

“You always seemed so untouchable among the chaos, a constant that would never leave. I think… the way you were always there, to give me whatever I needed, even if your end goal was the safety of _everyone…_ Maybe _because_ you always put the world first, the way I never could, back then…

“I was so in love with you?”

It’s the first time he’s said it, directly.

And Kisuke can’t even hear it.

“It was a crush at first, obviously, and I didn’t really know what I wanted, and honestly, it _would_ have been creepy if you felt anything for sixteen-year-old me. That crush passed, and then... Nineteen year-old-me, home from university for the first time? And then that whole mess with Xcution point two, and… Shit, I wish I’d just _said_ , it, then and there, and didn’t decide to wait longer.” He takes a deep breath and ignores the fact that he’s crying. “And then… it was too late. And no matter what Kurotsuchi and Aizen and even Unohana-san working with Orihime have tried… there is nothing they can do for you. Nothing at all, except keep your heart beating and your lungs breathing, and you lying here, where none of us can bring to switch off the machines.”

It feels like he’s run out of words, or maybe there are so many more things to say that they’ve clogged up his throat, and he blinks tears out of his eyes.

Kisuke lies, there still and unmoving, and shreds of hope that Ichigo hadn’t known he still _had_ crumble away.

Words, no matter how true or passionate or late, can’t change the fact that Kisuke can not be restored to what he was. They don’t know what’s wrong, exactly, just… that he is gone in all but his breathing and heartbeat.

He’s so _still_ , lying there, skin almost as pale as the white sheets, hair a grey, dull cascade, grown out in the two decades he’s been lying there, fading. With how thin he is, one could mistake him for a particularly well-fed skeleton.

The flowers on the bed-side table look slightly wilted, and Ichigo sighs, walking over to pick the vase up. He’s gonna need to get replacements if he’s the one doing the chucking.

Thistle flowers and forget-me-nots… Kurotsuchi must have been the last one to change them, then. Ichigo’s sure he’s seen some blooming wisteria a while back, somewhere near-by. He’ll get some of that.

He closes the door gently behind him, even though he can’t really _disturb_ Kisuke.

There’s work to do.

There’s a past to change.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos welcome! and feed my ability to write more fic
> 
> Here's a link to [Cywscross' UraIchi Discord Server](https://discordapp.com/invite/ADFnKTZ#_=_)!


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